


Zoomies

by SleepingDragons



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, Cute Mutagens, Cuteagens, Fluff, M/M, Winter At Kaer Morhen, also features the continents version of laser pointers, basically witchers have some animal traits and its adorable, kinda cracky but its fun, wolves have weird quirks too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepingDragons/pseuds/SleepingDragons
Summary: Though they're loathe to admit it, a Witcher school's animal namesake is more than just a name.  It was the primary source for the mutagens, and for the most part, it worked to create excellent monster hunters.There are some unusual side affects.ie, cat witchers get the zoomies, and Lambert is confused but supportive.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 268





	1. Chapter 1

Running footsteps wake him up. There’s a moment of tense alertness, threat assessment, reaching for the blade under his pillow, before the scents of home hit him and Lambert realizes he’s at Kaer Morhen for the winter. Whatever it is, he’s fine. Probably just the bard and Geralt doing something stupid and sickeningly sweet again. He’s about to roll over and go back to sleep when he registers he’s alone in his bed. There’s no warm body next to him, and while once that would have been normal, now it was a cause for alarm.

_He probably just got up to piss_ , Lambert tries to reason with himself. But a very loud part of his mind, the part that runs on pure instinct instead of thought, urges him up and out of bed to see where Aiden is, that he’s safe. Grumbling about the cold, he wraps a thick blanket around his shoulders and makes for the door. The hard stone is freezing on his bare feet, and he quickly gets on the rug. “This had better be worth it.”

There’s footsteps again, running away from the door and down the corridor. He pushes the door open and stares down the hall, spotting Aiden’s retreating form.

“What the fuck?”

Aiden keeps running down the corridor, as fast as if an angry fiend were chasing him, careening around the corner and out of sight. It’s only the knowledge that they’re safe in the keep that stops Lambert from chasing after him. Instead he stays put, trying to wrap his head around just what the fuck was going on.

Aiden returns, still running as fast as he can go, a manic grin on his face. He runs straight past Lambert sleepily standing in their doorway, all the way down to the other end of the hall. He runs headlong into the wall, bracing himself with his arms before pushing off and running again in the opposite direction.

Lambert sighs and steps out into the corridor, into Aiden’s path. Aiden practically skids to a stop less than a foot away from Lambert, hands landing on Lambert’s shoulders to keep his balance.

“Hey, Lamb,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. Despite himself, and the late hour, Lambert finds himself smiling back. That doesn’t stop him from asking if Aiden’s lost his goddamn mind, however.

“Nah,” Aiden says, bouncing on his feet. “Gotta run. It’s a cat thing.” With that, he dodges around Lambert and takes off again.

A cat thing. Well that just clears _everything_ up, doesn’t it?

He’s not going to be able to get back to sleep now, so Lambert just steps out of the way and watches Aiden run for the better part of an hour. When he finally comes to a stop, he’s panting and sweating, exhausted but still with the delighted grin. He’s still smiling when he collapses back into bed, and Lambert crawls in after him. It’s around three in the morning, if he had to guess, so they have time before they have to be awake again.

“So that’s new,” Lambert says.

Aiden shrugs. “Not really.”

“I think I’d have noticed if you did that out on the path.” They’d travelled together off and on for years before Lambert had worked up the courage to bring Aiden to Kaer Morhen. There had been no spontaneous marathons in the dead of night.

“Didn’t need to then,” Aiden says.

“Need to?”

“It’s about burning off restless energy. On the path, there’s hunting or traveling, it’s enough that I don’t usually need to.”

That makes sense, actually. A snowstorm was hitting the keep hard. Visibility outside was next to nothing, and it was cold enough to freeze the balls off an ice giant. Even Vesemir wasn’t cruel enough to force them to train outside in that, so no one had been outside in a few days. With most of the repairs completed before the storm hit, there wasn’t much to do inside. They had passed the time with drinking and gwent, swapping stories of the path. All very sedentary activities. That said….

“You know, there are _other_ ways of burning energy off,” Lambert says, waggling his eyebrows.

Lambert notices it at breakfast. Eskel’s using a knife to spread honey over his bread, and light from the fire bounces off it, leaving a little shiny spot of light on the table near Aiden’s plate.Beside him, Aiden goes tense, eyes on the light. It moves with the movements of the knife, sometimes disappearing altogether, before reappearing somewhere new. Aiden tracks it across the table, pupils wide in an expression Lambert likes to call “excited kitty.” He’s trembling with restraint, fighting the urge to pounce onto the damn table if that’s what it takes to catch that little light. When it gets near his hand, his control breaks, and he moves, quick as lightning, hand slamming down on the table where the light was.

Eskel jumps, dropping his knife, and the light disappears. “What was that?”

“Uh, thought I saw a spider,” Aiden says, laughing nervously.

“Hate those things,” Eskel says with a shudder, as if he’s not a fully grown Witcher that kills much larger and dangerous things than common spiders on a regular basis. There are no more “spiders” that meal, but it sets gears turning in Lambert’s mind. If Aiden’s getting bored, maybe he could do something?

Witchers take weapons maintenance very seriously. It could mean the difference between life and death, between you killing the monster or the monster killing you. But they usually don’t pay quite so much attention to polishing their blades as Lambert is right now. The knife in his hands shines more now than the day he got it. Jaskier could use it as a mirror if the vain little bard wanted to. Well, not really, because Lambert’s not inclined to share his blades, but that’s not the point. The point is that it reflects the light perfectly. Holding a lit candle near the blade, he can direct a speck of light anywhere. It’s perfect.

They’re alone in the library when he tries it out. Aiden’s reading a book, some romance he had picked up in Toussaint. It looks good, and Aiden’s read through half of it in three days, so it must be entertaining, maybe Lambert will read it next. But it won’t be half as entertaining as this.

“Hey, Aiden,” he calls, polished knife and candle at the ready. When Aiden looks up, Lambert darts the light passed him, making sure he can see it. “Spider.”

“Oh, you asshole.” Aiden glares at him for a moment before returning to his book. That won’t do. He moves behind Aiden, reflecting the light onto the pages, then onto his arm and the table. Aiden’s tense, visibly trying not to give in and give chase. Lambert slowly moves the light closer to him, just within range, then darts it away again. Aiden tracks it, but he still doesn’t move.

“No one here but us,” Lambert says, thinking of Aiden’s embarrassment from earlier that day. “Go for it.” He runs the light in front of Aiden’s feet, and Aiden pounces, dropping the book on the floor. Lambert laughs and sends the light flying, watching as Aiden chases after it.

Across the room, up the wall, back again. Wherever the light goes, Aiden follows, the light always just out of reach. Sometimes Lambert pulls the knife away from the candle, making the light disappear entirely, just to watch Aiden search the room. Inevitably, it reappears across the room again, and Aiden takes off.

By the time they’re done, Aiden’s grinning and panting.

“Good idea?”

“Excellent idea.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cats aren't the only ones with quirks

Over the next few weeks, the shiny light comes out to play more and more. The harder it snows, the more Aiden and Lambert slip away for some fun. The rest of the keep probably thinks they’re fucking, and they are, definitely, but this is far more innocent. If nothing else, it’s a way to keep both of them entertained when they’re cooped up in the keep.  
The library is a good place for it. Other than Vesemir, no one spends much time there. When someone gets bored enough to grab a book, they usually take it back to their room to read it. So as long as Vesemir is somewhere else, they have the library free to themselves.  


Except for the bard.  


They’re about twenty minutes into their game. Aiden’s perched on top of a tall bookshelf, surveying the room. The light dances on the floor, several feet ahead of the bookcase. Aiden crouches, butt wiggling minutely as he adjusts for the perfect trajectory. There’s a single chirping noise, something Lambert affectionately calls a “murder chirp”, before he leaps. He hangs in the air for what seems like an eternity before landing square on the light.  


Success.  


Lambert whoops, impressed at the acrobatics. How he never knocked the shelf over was beyond him. Aiden grins at him and Lambert’s all set to dart the light away again when clapping pulls them out of the fun.  


They whip their heads around to see Jaskier standing in the doorway. Aiden’s immediately on his feet, backing away in embarrassment. Lambert nearly drops the knife, years of instinct the only thing keeping it in his hands. He had been so focused on Aiden, how much fun they were having, he didn’t realize someone had come in. Fuck. He never meant for other people to see this and now it’s probably ruined and  


“That was wonderful!”  


Jaskier doesn’t mind? He’s not gonna give them shit for it?  


Aiden straightens up, a hint of pride on his face, chasing away the earlier embarrassment. “Really?”  


“Of course. I’ve never seen anyone jump so far before!” Jaskier truly seems impressed. Lambert shoots a questioningly look at Aiden, gesturing with the knife. Aiden nods, and Lambert turns back to their unexpected guest.  


“Watch this then.”  


The light zooms past Jaskier’s feet, headed for the far set of bookshelves. Aiden chases after it, never quite reaching it. Lambert darts the light up the shelves, then above them near one of the high set windows. Aiden leaps onto a table, foot barely touching the surface before he’s launching off of it and onto the bookshelves built into the wall. He jumps from shelf to shelf, never knocking a single book out of place, finally jumping up and grabbing the windowsill with a single hand. He swings, using his momentum to bring him up onto the ledge, then darts a hand out at the light on the wall.  


“Got it!” he calls down to the stunned bard.  


“Holy shit,” Jaskier says. He traces the path Aiden took with his eyes, marvelling over it. He couldn’t do that if he practiced for years. Aiden’s at least twenty feet off the ground, and Jaskier’s stomach churns just thinking about trying to follow.  


“Can I join?” Jaskier asks, pulling a small, compact mirror from his pocket. Of course the bard carries a mirror with him. Lambert hands over the candle, and Jaskier angles the mirror so the light shines on the far wall. He’s not sure what he’s expecting. Probably for Aiden to climb down, more carefully than he had climbed up. Despite what he saw when he came in, he certainly doesn’t expect Aiden to just launch himself off the windowsill towards the light.  


And yet that’s exactly what he does.  


He tucks into a roll when he hits the ground, then pops up and runs toward the light nearly faster than Jaskier can track. He barely manages to dart it away in time, but Aiden keeps chasing it.  


Meanwhile, Lambert’s found another candle, and adds his light to the mix. There’s another layer of the game now, who can keep their light away longer, who’s light is more tempting to chase.  


When they’re done, Aiden’s even more exhausted than usual, but the scent of happiness is rolling off of him in waves. Jaskier becomes a frequent extra player in their games, and even Lambert can’t find it in him to complain.  


Until Geralt.  


Apparently, the bard had been gone too long, and Geralt, for once bored of gwent, had set out to find him. They were in the middle of their game when Geralt burst in. He took one look at Aiden chasing after lights and snorted.  


“When you said you were bringing a cat home for the winter, I didn’t expect it to be so literal.”  


“Geralt!” Jaskier scolds, game abandoned. Lambert, for his part, simply flips Geralt off.  


Aiden raises a hand, waving Jaskier off. “No, no it’s fine. It *is* a cat thing, and I’m not ashamed of it.” His eyes narrow, looking at Geralt. “Besides, it’s not as if the wolves don’t have quirks of their own.”  


Geralt crosses his arms. “Oh, really?”  


Jaskier, ever the peacekeeper, steps between them. “Yes, dear, I’m sure you do. Now, come on, let’s leave them to it.” He leads Geralt out of the library, shooting Aiden an apologetic look.  


The next few days are an uneasy truce. The game continues, but Lambert takes a little extra care to avoid the others. The whole time, Aiden’s words linger in the back of his head. Wolf quirks? He couldn’t think of anything *that* unusual. Nothing like midnight marathons up and down the halls (which had thankfully stopped as long as Aiden burned off energy in other ways), or chasing after lights. Sure, they’d chase each other sometimes, it was fun to play hunt, but that was people not lights. And maybe they sniffed a little more than normal, but that just came with enhanced senses, it was practically part of being a Witcher! Really, Lambert didn’t know what Aiden was talking about.  


They manage to avoid Geralt for a week or so, but it can’t last forever. Soon enough, Geralt’s popping into the library to return a book of poetry Jaskier had borrowed, laughing when he sees he’s interrupted Lambert and Aiden again.  


“Should I get you a ball of yarn next?”  


Lambert’s all set to curse Geralt out, he had learned a few new Skelligan swears on the path, wanted to try them out, but Aiden just smirks. It’s Lambert’s favorite smirk, the one he gets when he’s about to get up to some expert level mischief. Lambert loves and fears that smirk in equal measure.  


Aiden cups his hands in front of his mouth, tips his head back, and howls. It’s not even very good, sounds far more like a person than a wolf, and too quiet to boot. But it’s enough. Geralt has just one moment of restraint before he’s gone, head thrown back and howling, a deep booming sound that carries for miles. From across the keep, two howls answer, joining in harmony. At that point, it’s too much for Lambert to resist, and he joins in the chorus. His howl only lasts for a few moments before he cuts himself off with laughter. He can barely breathe, he’s laughing so hard. When the howl dies down, Lambert’s moved to full on cackling. Geralt’s glaring, face red as a tomato.  


Lambert struggles to contain his glee long enough to speak. “He got you good!”

  


Meanwhile, across the keep:  


“So, while it’s true that minor key is often associated with more melancholy songs, it can still be used in uplifting music, if the musician is skilled enough,” Jaskier says.  


Eskel nods. “And I’m sure you’d say you’re--” whatever he was going to say next is lost when the sound of howling reaches his ears. Midsentence or not, the call of his pack is too strong, and he howls back, hearing Vesemir and Lambert join him from different parts of the keep.  


They drop off one by one, and when the keep is silent, Eskel turns back to Jaskier. “Sorry about that,” he says, his hand scrubbing at his scar.  


“Don’t be. It sounded beautiful.” There’s no lie in his scent, and Eskel relaxes slightly. At least he knows Jaskier wouldn’t mock him. “I didn’t know you did that.”  


Eskel shrugs. “It’s a wolf thing, the mutations, they, they’re not always practical. Somethings they bred into us I think just for the hell of it. Or maybe it was too much effort to get rid of.”  


“Like chasing after lights?” Jaskier says, nodding.  


“For cats, maybe.”  


“Well, at least howling has its uses.”  


“Really only useful for getting called a freak.”  


“I bet you know exactly who each one was, and where they are,” Jaskier counters.  


“Vesemir’s in the kitchen, Geralt and Lambert are in the library.” He cocks his head to the side in confusion, and Jaskier has to fight the urge to call him a cute puppy. “Actually, I think Aiden started it…”  


“Oh gods, it’s contagious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt's a bit of shit in this, but it's mostly revenge for the teasing Lambert put him through when he first brought Jaskier to the keep


End file.
